I had to go to physical therapy this morning. And write two blog posts--one for Mamarazzi and one for BlogHer. And go grocery shopping. And take my daughter 's lunch to school.
So I thought, hey, why not pick her up some tuna rolls in the sushi department at the grocery store? So I did. Even though it's a bit Molly Ringwald in The Breakfast Club to have sushi for lunch.
I packed the tuna rolls up in a clear plastic lunch tote with a vanilla cream pastry from the Croatian bakery and a bag of purple seedless grapes. I dropped them off about 45 minutes before the lunch bell rang. I felt--for once--like a good mom.
Well, a friend of mine who works at the school just called me to tell me that my daughter never picked up her lunch. My friend had my daughter paged, and when she came into the office, my daughter told my friend that it was too late. So my friend put the lunch into the refrigerator. And I'm pretty sure my daughter scrounged the equivalent of a Pixi Stik and Cap'n Crunch sandwich from her friends.
Now, if this were an O. Henry short story, there would be some kind of interesting twist ... but this is a P. Buxom blog post, so I leave you with the following:
Guess who's having leftover tuna rolls for dinner?
1. My daughter
If you picked 2, you are wrong, wrong, wrong. Because I'm having a cocktail. Maybe three.